Isabela's Boots
by barbex
Summary: Isabela falls in love. That wasn't the plan. Sex is easy but love? Love is terrifying. - femslash, non-explicit sex, merribela
This was my contribution for the daficswap (dragon age fic swap) on tumblr for the wonderful art that foxesforsale. tumblr. com made. I can't add the picture here unfortunately.

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The first time Isabela catches herself in Merrill's kitchen in the morning after a delightful night, making Merrill's favorite tea - the onslaught of domesticity has her breaking out in sweat. Her flight instinct is screaming in the back of her mind and she laces up her boots in record time and runs out the door.

It takes her a week to recover and being able to face Merrill again after that embarrassing display. But Merril doesn't act any different to her. Her happy smile upon seeing Isabela lights up the dampest pisshole street in Darktown and Isabela's heart stops for the length of a breath. Only the attack from some foolish bandits stops her from running.

Late afternoon, she finds herself in Merrill's bed again. Contrary to popular belief among the gossip line at the Hanged Man, it isn't and it never was Isabela who seduced sweet, innocent Merrill. No, it had been Merrill who had taken her hand and pulled her away from a situation that would have resulted in pain and lost friendships. It had been sweet, innocent Merrill who had taken her into her tiny home, made her tea and then kissed her and finally showed her that she was far less innocent than everybody believed.

Merrill giggles as she pushes Isabela over on her bed. Everything about Merrill seems so light, so easy. A giggle as she unlaces Isabela's boot, a laugh as she kisses up Isabela's thigh. Another giggle as she unties the knot of the other boot with her teeth. Isabela has never known so much laughter in bed.

 _Oh, she's had fun, of course_.

She laughed in bed before, laughed about victory or disappointment and sometimes even over bitter relief. But it's been a long time since she has laughed easily like this, just because everything feels good and right and lighthearted. It's so frightening, she wants to lace up her boots again and run out the door.

But Merrill has let her boots fall from the bed and the few clothes she wore went along with them. Merrill loves to be naked, she told Isabela that she loves to feel her skin on hers. Isabela can't deny that she loves that feeling too. Her elven skin is smooth but firm and the tattoos over Merrill's body feel like little grooves under her fingertips. Sometimes they just lie in each other's arm and feel the other's skin until they fall asleep. The first time it had happened, it felt so terribly intimate that Isabela wanted to run when she woke up.

Her flight instinct is screaming again now, but Merrill looks up to her and any thought of fleeing disappears when she smiles. Those big green eyes, that sweet smile is a weapon that Isabela has no protection against. Another laugh bubbles up as she slides her body up over Isabela's legs, her eyes sparkling. Isabela's blouse gets pushed aside and Merrill is stroking over her chest, removing any hindering clothes with deft hands. There is another bell-like laugh when Isabela wiggles out of her skirt and pants. She unties the red swath around her hips and throws it over Merrill's back to pull her up closer. It gives her an illusion of control, of being in charge when in all reality Isabela has never been in charge with Merrill.

Merrill follows the pull of the red scarf up with a devious grin, knowing full well that she isn't tied to Isabela. Neither is Isabela tied to Merrill but sometimes she isn't sure of that anymore. Merrill kisses her, taking to her lips like a sailor about to die of thirst and Isabela drowns.

Isabela seldom has a moment where she stops thinking, where she stops worrying or planning. Especially when she has sex, her mind is going into overdrive, looking for signs of anger, constantly checking her surroundings, waiting for the betrayal. She knows too much about the ugliness of men and women to trust someone so much that she can give all of herself.

But with Merrill she just falls. She falls deep into every touch, every glance, every kiss. She holds on to Merrill like she is her boat in a wild sea. There is nothing else to think, nothing else to fear. She is filled with so much joy that there is no room for anything else.

Merrill kisses a path down her body until she gets to her very core and Isabela lets go of all thought but Merrill's name that she sobs into the dusty air.

When she wakes up some time later, holding Merrill's back pressed to herself, her heart clenches in fear and she runs. She runs with her boots barely laced.

Kirkwall is never quiet. Even in this dark hour of the night, some man filling the old and tired mold of drunk-angry-and-armed, thinks it's a good idea to push her over when she bends down to lace up her boots. He laughs at her kneeling in front of him, waving his knife about, yelling at her to do what a whore like her does. His laugh is vulgar and demeaning but it soon turns into a gurgling noise as he tries to scream with a slit throat. Isabela looks as he falls over in front of her, his blood turning the cobblestones red. She wants to laugh at him, at his stupid assumption that he could treat her like that.

She laughs but her throat closes up and it's almost like she's crying but she can't breathe and her heart is racing and her hands shake and darkness closes in on her. She falls to her knees, fighting for air.

 _Kneeling - once again on her knees._

The dying man is still gurgling and with a scream she plunges her dagger in his chest and gets up, stumbling backwards until her back hits a wall. A harsh breath fills her lungs and she can laugh with no joy.

 _Never kneel again!_

The Hanged Man isn't far away and Varric doesn't say anything as he sets an ale in front of her and hands her a rag to wipe the blood off her knees. She cleans her daggers under the tired looks of the barkeep who has seen worse in this job and downs two more drinks before her hands stop shaking. Varric doesn't say anything to that either but he squeezes her hand once before he walks over to Hawke and Fenris and guides them to a table, away from Isabela and her racing heart.

A man and a woman approach her, flirting, inviting her to a night of fun and pleasure. She plays along cause she knows this game so well, it's almost a habit. The woman smiles and licks her red lips and the man grins at her with greedy lust in his eyes and suddenly she feels like spitting in their faces. She gets up so fast that her chair falls over behind her and walks out of the tavern. She walks fast, she knows now where she wants to go.

She stops in front of Merrill's door and opens it slowly. Of course her door isn't locked, she never locks her door. Varric used to spend a small fortune on keeping certain scum away from her open door but all of lower Kirkwall knows by now that a powerful mage leaves near the tree in Lowtown. Break-ins and ambushes have decreased considerably in this area.

A protective magical fire hisses in a bowl when Isabela enters because Merrill is once again not half as naive as some people think. She looks up from her cup of tea and her smile lights up the room. She looks so incredibly happy that Isabela can't breathe for a moment.

 _Who can possibly deserve so much adoration? So much true happiness?_

"I'm sorry," Isabela says and sits down on a rickety chair.

"Why?" Merrill asks, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry that I just left like that. Again."

"But you always come back!" Merrill laughs and takes Isabela's hand.

Isabela swallows. She has lost count how many times she has left Merrill without a word to spend her night elsewhere. And for some reason Merrill still doesn't doubt that she would come back. "I... I thought... maybe I shouldn't always leave like that, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind," Merrill says, beaming at Isabela. "When you're with me, you're with me and you can stay as long as you like."

"When I'm with you, I'm with you?" Isabela asks, a strange feeling spreading in her chest. "What does that mean?"

"Did I not say that right? It's so confusing with you humans." Merrill sighs and wrinkles appear on her forehead. "Some people want many and others want just one and I don't know why people don't just say what they want."

The heat in Isabela's chest spreads up her throat and she is suddenly so very thirsty. "I want..." her voice wants to shrivel away from her, "I want to be with you."

Merrill nods, "Yes, when you're with me, you're with me."

"No, not just then," Isabela says and her eyes search for something to focus on because Merrill's eyes make her lose her mind. "Also in between, when I'm not with you, I want to be with you."

Now Merrill stares at her in surprise. "Really, with me?" She looks like she could have never possibly imagined that and Isabela wants to pull her close and also slit the throat of anybody who made her think that she could never be loved like that. Because she loves Merrill and the realisation makes her heart sing.

She leans forward and takes Merrill's face in her hands. "Yes, I want to be with you." She waits for Merrill's smile to return and then says, "I also _want_ you of course," and grins.

Merrill nose gets wrinkles as she looks at Isabela. "Was that a dirty joke again? I always miss the dirty jokes."

"Yes, kitten, it was little bit dirty but don't worry about it, it just means that I want to kiss you now," Isabela says, suddenly feeling calmer than ever before. She leans over the table and presses her lips to Merrill's. She can't help but moan, how soft she feels, how sweet she tastes - it's just right. Their tongues touch and a spark runs down her spine, spreading out in shivers all the way to her fingertips. She kisses Merrill like it's the last thing that holds her on this world and it's probably even true.

The table creaks between them and Merrill giggles at the noise. Isabela laughs with her, her heart bursting at hearing Merrill's laugh. She lets go of her and steps around the table to pull Merrill close to her. Again their mouths crash against each other and they run out of breath as they kiss and stumble backwards on Merrill's bed. Isabela removes yet another dagger from her belt and impatiently tugs on the laces of her boots until Merrill swats her hand away and unlaces them for her.

Her hands stroke over the soft leather and she lifts Isabela's leg to slide the boot off slowly. She lingers for a moment, looking between the boot and her own foot. "Can I wear your boots?" she asks, looking up with her big green eyes. As if Isabela could ever deny her anything.

"Of course, kitten, sit up here on the table, I'll put them on you." Merrill hops on the table, her gauntlets glittering golden in a ray of sunlight from the window. Isabela kneels down and slides the boots over Merrill's legs. They are too big for her, they go over her knees and she has to lace them tighter. She gets to work on the first boot, pulling the laces tighter, working from the heel up to the knee. When she looks up, Merrill stares at her and Isabela feels heat crawl up her back.

She's on her knees, something she swore to never be again but this is Merrill. Sweet, lovely Merrill who looks at her like she's just saved her from drowning. She is on her knees but she can't help but smile.

Isabela ties the lacing and lets her hand rest on Merrill's thigh. "You look lovely, kitten," she says. She lets her hand slowly crawl up Merrill's thigh and under the fringe of her shirt. Merrill's giggle turns into a gasp as Isabela presses a kiss to the exposed skin on her thigh and lets her hand travel further to her center.

The second boot never makes it onto Merrill's leg as she throws her head back and laughs and moans while Isabela caresses her. There is an incredible lightness in Isabela's heart when she hears Merrill gasp her name and she smiles so much that her cheeks start to hurt. She keeps on kissing and touching Merrill, loving her with her hands and tongue and saying everything that way that she can't put into words. She kneels and can't dream of anything else she would rather do in this moment.

* * *

 _Is this Isabela out of character? I don't think so. I have heard Isabela getting choked up when she tells Hawke that she's taking a chance and she better not die. I have seen how she tries to brush off the commitment at first and even runs away. But she comes around and hearing her voice break when she talks to a romanced Hawke - it makes my heart break for her._

 _The part where she has a bad episode about kneeling and being treated like a whore I've made up but I'm convinced that Isabela, who was sold like a sex slave to her husband, has some kind of PTSD from that._


End file.
